WHERE TO NOW? (M/M) 18+

Chapter 20

Samuel - four years ago

Mum and dad always fought, it didn't matter what it was about or who was around, they always seemed to blame each other for the crappy things that happened in their lives.

I knew they loved each other but they had no idea how to communicate properly, making every conversation turn into a heated discussion.. but that's not what this was, no, this was an argument.

I could hear them even behind my closed door. I hadn't told them that I wasn't living in my flat anymore and when I came back for a few days to "visit" they were ecstatic. Having their son return from months away at college seemed to be an achievement for them, something they bragged about alot to their close friends for some reason.

I couldn't take it anymore, my headphones failing to drown out the noise of their constant bickering so I got up off my bed and walked quietly into Lucy's room.

I found her on the floor, her hands loosely clutching onto two dolls but her eyes were vacant, and I could tell that she was having the same problem that I was.

Her bright blue eyes glanced up at me as she heard the squeak of the hinges opening. "Hey Luce," I said softly, closing the door behind me. She didn't respond, just looked back down at her dolls.

She looked sad, like she always did when they would argue. Why couldn't they wait until she was out of the house on her play dates or something, why did they have to expose her to this shit?

I sat down beside her, stretching my legs out on her round pink rug with an audible groan. I always tried to make a lot of noise when they were like this, I found that it made Lucy focus on me abit more, like it drowned out the cacophony of insults that echoed through the house.. but I knew it didn't, I knew it only distracted her, even for a moment, and that was enough for me.

"What're we playing?" I asked, running my hand down the blonde, wiry dolls hair, straightening out her tangled mess of a sown on scalp.

I hated the sensation. It made me grit my teeth at how stiff and crusty it felt.

"I don't like when mum and dad fight" Her words were so soft and quiet, so intensely painful to hear that the urge to tell them to shut up boiled hot in my blood.

It frustrated me to know that at the age of four, she had to deal with this on a regular basis. I was gone, I was out, pretending to live in a flat near my school but she was stuck.

It wasn't all bad, they weren't terrible parents. They treated us well but when they'd talk to each other it was a different story. They always played it off like they weren't fighting when we'd finally come downstairs, not wanting us to worry I guess.

"I know, I don't either," I said, brushing her shoulder length, golden hair behind her ear so she would look at me. Her eyes met mine, so full of blue wonder and sadness all at once.

I felt my heart crack alittle as I took in her expression. So doe eyed and cute while simultaneously holding the weight of the world on her shoulders. I suppose we are the world in her eyes... but at her age, her biggest worry should be the stuffing coming loose of her favourite stuffed rabbit or a scraped knee when she plays in the park. She shouldn't have to listen to this.

"you know what, how about we go on an adventure?" I said happily, putting on a fake smile that felt wrong to show. Her eyes widened slightly as her hands slowly dropped the dolls with an enthusiastic nod. I smiled, for real this time. "Okay, let's go"